#steve harrington gets flustered easily

[kennahjune]

ALRIGHT BUT

I’ve been having flustered Steve thoughts.

The Party has NEVER seen Steve flustered. Steve’s always the one flirting and no one ever flirts back anymore so Steve’s never actually flustered.

But then Eddie Munson comes slithering along and he flirts with everyone just cause he can but nobody’s flustered by his attempts because he’s not trying to actually fluster them.

But for some reason he really flusters Steve.

Eddie uses this to his advantage and actually puts forth effort when he flirts with Steve.

Steve is flustered, bashful, embarrassed. He’s twirling his hair and giggling and he does this thing where he taps his fingernails on his front teeth when he gets distracted.

The Party was NEVER seen Steve like this.

Not even Nancy when they were dating.

Steve has described what he was like when he was flustered to them, calling himself stupid and saying he acted like an idiot to try and get them to just lay off.

All anyone sees is an absolute sweetheart.

Steve blushes really bright, starting with his ears and it just travels down from there. And also he’s really bad at hiding his smiles and he smiles so BIG when Eddie flirts with him. Like you can see every tooth and his eyes crinkle so much they basically close and his nose scrunches up.

And Eddie fucking THRIVES in it.

Because NO ONE else gets Steve like that.

Eddie’s witnessed Steve flirting with the girls of Hawkins. Has seen them all flirt back with varying degrees of bluntness.

None of them have gotten Steve nearly half as flustered as Eddie has.

UNTIL.

Eddie has Steve come over to the trailer to hang out. Steve by some turn of events ends up cooking and making grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Wayne comes home right as Steve is playing everything and Steve is DISTRAUGHT. Like “no Wayne it’s alright, really. I can make you some to it’s ok I like cooking you’re really doing me a favor.”

So Steve makes Wayne a grilled cheese to and refuses to let Eddie eat until they can eat together.

So they’re all sitting and then they start eating. And obviously it was a damn good grilled cheese— Eddie knew Steve could cook but good GOD.

And then Wayne puts his grilled cheese down, looks between Steve and Eddie, and tells Eddie “If you don’t marry ‘im I’m adoptin ‘im.”

And Steve BEAMS.

It’s that same smile he gets when Eddie flirts with him and Eddie is only somewhat livid.

Cause he totally gets the rush of having Wayne compliment you for the first time. He’s just such an honest man.

And it goes from there that the only people who can fluster Steve are Eddie and Wayne (Eddie romantically and Wayne platonic-fatherly).

They both go out of their way to compliment him constantly just to see him smile like that :)))

Aaahhhhh this makes me so happy!!!!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

halfway there (fully smitten)

written for @steddie-spooktober Halfway to Halloween pop up event!

rated G | 2,832 words | on AO3: halfway there (fully smitten) | prompt: half-o-ween meet cute, modern au, flirting, steve harrington is simultaneously super charming and on his game AND easily flustered

Steve would do anything for his kid siblings.

He would.

It’s just…

“Why’d it have to be this Saturday?”

“Because that’s the halfway mark?” Dustin says as if it was obvious, rolling his eyes for good measure.

“Oh you’ve got to–” Steve scrubs a hand down his face; Yeah. fine. That makes sense. It is called the ‘Halfway to Halloween’ craft fair. “You don’t even like crafts.”

“There’s going to be more than just crafts.” Dustin says, again, like it should be obvious. “C’mon Steve, even Max wants to go. Like, actually wants to go.”

Steve looks over at the Max in question, gazing up at him with her usual scowl on her face.

“She doesn’t look like she wants to.”

“Yes she–”

“She does.” she says.

“See??” Dustin gestures excitedly towards her.

Steve sighs again. Of course she’d want to go, she’s always been all about that spooky crap.

He looks down between the two hellions he’s so proud to call his siblings.

Internally.

Internally he is.

He sighs again, turning away from where they’d corralled him at the end of the hallway.

“C’mon Steve where’re you–”

“I gotta call Angie,”

“But–”

“I have to call off our date, dingwad!"

Dustin insisted that they be there right when the fair opened at 10 am, but after a syrup incident at breakfast and a couple bathroom breaks, their two hour drive to the 4H grounds the show was being held at, turned into two hours and 45 minutes, landing them in line at 10:10 am.

They waited their turn to pay the entrance fee, Dustin bouncing on his toes the whole time, and as soon as the bright orange bracelet was on his wrist, he was off. 

Surprising Steve further, Max was right on his heels, scanning seriously over the first line of vendors.

“You shits better have your phones on you!” Steve calls after them, getting offhanded waves in return.

He watches them go a little on ahead, sliding between the already hearty crowd much easier than he would, then turns to look at some of the vendors’ wares himself.

It was not a great place to start paying attention, to be completely honest, the racks and tables filled with all sorts of stuffed animals with bloody gashes, exposed broken bones, and dangling bloodshot eyes..

His shock must’ve been fully apparent because the bearded man behind the stall table guffaws at his expression.

“S’not for everyone, kid. I get it.” he says when Steve apologizes.

There are people selling their collections of movie memorabilia, specialty indie costume companies selling their scarily (ha) detailed rubber masks, some folks are selling crystals, some are selling crochet, some have tiny taxidermied mice..

It’s honestly kind of overwhelming.

He stops at one end of this barn (the second in the grounds’ row of five that were full up for the occasion), leaning up against the open double doors.

He’d originally been concerned about the cool cloudy weather, thinking it’d be too cold to be walking around outside like this, but a lot of vendors had space heaters plugged in behind their booths, and there were so many people bustling through and around the space that the wide open doors were a blessing to his already sweating brow.

Taking advantage of his spot out of the flow of people, he opens his phone to check on where the gremlins were (two barns down already what the hell??), when Dustin’s text comes through.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and continues on.

The next booth he comes to is another with taxidermied things, though these are all bugs. Different beetles, bees, and butterflies pinned into shadow boxes.

For some reason, he gets kinda stuck at the display of colorful wings. He’s never really liked bugs, never had a strong opinion about butterflies, but these things are… seriously beautiful.

Some he remembers the names for without having to look at the little tags the vendor wrote up for them; Monarch for one, and he knows this blue one is an Emperor Butterfly from that Animal Crossroads game Max got him hooked on for a while a couple years ago, and he’s inspecting the pattern of greens and oranges on another when he feels someone brush up against him.

Suddenly aware of how long he’s been standing in front of the display, probably blocking a whole bunch of others from getting to look too, he glances back, stepping out of the way with a “Shit, sorry!”

“No worries man, I can look just fine from right here.”

Steve’s busy looking down at his feet to make sure he’s stepping around the boxes stored under a nearby display table, “No, really, I just got caught up looking at them;” he finally gets his feet in a safe spot, and turns to the newcomer, “They’re all really–”

He’d made the mistake of looking up at the source of the voice, and now his own is stuck in his throat.

Steve’s a sucker for all things 80s, the aesthetic (a new word introduced to him by Max) at least, and this guy looked as if he was plucked right out of time and delivered to him on a shiny silver platter.

A mess of dark frizzy curls, deep dark eyes, ripped skinny jeans and some sort of band tee under a leather jacket and denim vest..

Even the sun decided to point out how much of a simp he was about to be over this guy, choosing that moment to break through the clouds outside the doors and give hot 80s metal guy a hell of a glow.

“--pretty.”

Hot Metalhead smirks and ohjesusfuckingchristhehasdimples.

“You’re not too bad yourself, big boy.” the man says, and Steve swears he can feel the other man’s gaze trail over him. “You got a favorite?”

He gestures back to the display of bugs, and Steve shakes his head clear, “Uh.. The orange one maybe, the Monarch? But this one is really cool.” he points to the green/orange one.

Hot Metalhead nods, “The Madagascan Sunset Moth, that one’s my favorite.” then he levels a smirk at Steve, “Seems you’ve got good taste, pretty boy.”

Something kicks to life behind Steve’s ribs, and suddenly he feels completely back on his game. He slowly drags his gaze over the other man, lingering on his lips (chapped, but perfectly pouty even in their smirk), “Seems like I do.”

Steve meets the man’s eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something else when they’re broken from the moment by none other than Max.

“There you are! Do you ever check your phone?” she gripes, pulling him out of the booth

“What–Max?” A rock sinks into his stomach, “What’s wrong?”

“I need your help picking something for Lucas,” she puts her hands on her hips and it’s like he’s looking in a mirror.

The rock rolls out his stomach with the roll of his eyes, and turns to say something to Hot Metalhead, but he’s already a couple booths away, bending low over a table of books.

“You can flirt later, I really need your help!”

Sighing, but figuring he can find Hot Metalhead later, he follows Max to a bigger movie memorabilia booth in the center of the next barn over.

Eventually, they settle on two gifts for Max’s “He’s not my boyfriend nor do I want him to be.” boyfriend (“He’s not my boyfriend, Steve! Urgh, you’re the worst.”): a Freddy Krueger sweater, and a jersey boasting the Haddonfield Butchers, with the last name Myers and number 78 on the back.

“Are you sure that’s not secretly for you?” Steve asks, clocking the reference immediately. He had, afterall, been made to sit and watch Halloween close to a zillion times over the course of he and Max’s foster journey together.

“No, it’s for him. It's something I like fused with what he likes." She reasons.

“Sure, sure,”

Max wanders off again after that, and so does Steve, scanning the crowd for messy brown curls as he scans the other vendors.

Eventually, he comes to a booth covered in pins and earrings. 

He immediately thinks of Ms. Hender– Claud— Mom when he sees all the earrings, and starts looking through the spinning racks, snapping a picture to send to the goblins as he does

“Find something you like?”

Steve glances up, one of the two ladies manning the booth has stood from her chair, the strawberry blond with the ponytail, smiling brightly at him. A pair of cigarette earrings hang from her lobes, one new and one half burnt down.

“Yeah, sorry, I was sending a picture of these to my siblings,” he picks up the fangs, “Our mom would love these.”

The woman holds out a hand and he passes the set to her, “Awesome, let me get them bagged up for you!”

“Do you want a different color?” The other woman says, looking through a basket of what looks like even more pairs of earrings; she’s a dirtier blond with a choppy bob and freckles.

“Another color?”

“Y’know, black, orange, purple, glow in the d–” that’s when she looks up at him, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve’s brain goes into a jumbled state of ???????????

“Uhm, yeah? How’d you–”

“You went to my high school!”

A rock plunges into his gut, “Oh, uhm.. I’m sorry? I don’t–”

“You dated Tammy Thompson.”

He feels his face pull into a cringe, “Yeah, that was… yeah.”

“She was on American Idol!” the strawberry blond says.

Steve finds himself laughing, “I don’t know how she made it, she sounds like a muppet when she sings.”

“She does!” She laughs at the same time Choppy Bob says an indignant “She does not!”

The rock is back, “Oh, sorry.. Was she a friend?”

Ponytail laughs again, saying “No,” at the same time as Bob but continuing on with “Robin here had a biiiig crush on her.”

 Bob, Robin apparently, goes all splotchy, “Shut up Chris!”

Chris just waves her off, “Oh he’s fine, he’s one of us, did you not see his pin?”

Steve looks down at his own chest, Max’s gifted bi flag pin glinting up at him from his jacket, then back up at the two; the lanyard around Robin’s neck jumps out at him, striped in pinks and oranges and whites, and Chris has what looks like one half of a heart in colors matching his pinned to her sweater.

“Huh.” Robin says, looking perplexed, “Who’da thunk?”

“You’re telling me.” Steve jokes, finally getting Robin to smile back at him.

Suddenly, and at the same time another potential customer comes into the little stall behind him, Dustin comes out of the woodwork to tug at his arm, “Finally, there you are! Stop flirting and come with me, you gotta see these cars!”

“Whoa, dude! Chill out for a second, okay? I’m trying to pay the nice lady.”

“Well hurry it up dude,” he mocks, “They’ve got the Ghostbusters’ hearse back there!”

Dustin squeezes very impolitely past the other person in the booth, and Steve turns back to Chris, “Sorry, brothers you know?”

“He’s got a point, the Ghostbusters one is pretty impressive,” She says as Robin accepts his $10 bill for the jewelry, and passes him back a small bag and a card, “I wrote our cell numbers on the back, we should all meet up again sometime!”

“Course! I’ll let you know how my mom likes ‘em, yeah?”

Steve squeezes out the stall and Chrissy picks up her phone. 

Dustin was right (what’s new?), this last building is packed full of hearses of every shape and size. 

A 1940s era one, a slightly newer model painted entirely in matte black, one with a padded coffin hanging half out the end for people to pose for pictures in. But the real star of the show, at least according to Dustin, was the one for one remake of the Ghostbusters’ white one.

Steve follows him down the row, pausing at the hood of the replica to take a picture of the giant slime ghost plush in the passenger seat, then on to peer into the cab.

He was still inspecting all the old dials in the dash through the open window, when someone says, “See something you like?”

“I was told by a very reliable source that yours was the one to beat.” Steve says, taking in the shockingly low number of miles on the odometer, “And I gotta say, still having the original dials in the dash is pretty cool– Hey! It’s you!” 

The guy leaning his weight onto the car’s roof with one hand grins, “Hello again, your majesty.”

“Majesty?”

 “You liked the Monarchs, remember?” Hot Metalhead pushes himself up off the car and offers Steve the same hand, “I’m Eddie.”

“Steve.” he breathes, taking Eddie’s hand in his. 

Eddie shakes his hand once, his fingers calloused and warm, “Well, King Steve, what brings you all the way to my neck of the woods?”

“I heard there was a super special hearse back here so I had to come see it for myself.”

“Good eye, Stevie”

“Only if it’s easy on ‘em.” he says, starting to get his normal voice back, “‘Easy on the eyes’ y’know?”

Eddie just laughs, “Yeah big guy, I got it.”

Steve’s face is on fire. He clears his throat, finally letting Eddie’s hand go. He notices a familiar pin on the front breast pocket of his denim vest that he hadn’t noticed before, this one striped in shades of blue, green, and white, the opposite half of Chris’ pink, purple, and blue one.

“Oh, hey! You know Chris?” Eddie's face flashes into confusion, so Steve clarifies, “She’s got the same half heart pin as you…?”

“Chrissy you mean? Tiny? Ponytail? Bangs?”

Steve shrugs, “That sounds right.”

“Has a girlfriend about yay tall? Freckles?”

“I mean, she didn’t stand up..”

Eddie considers him for a moment. “Nope. Never heard of ‘er.”

Oh god he’s a dork.. Steve’ll never survive this.

“D’she send you over here?”

“Kinda? Dustin wanted to see the cars anyhow so..” he holds his arms out at his sides, “Here I am.”

“So this curly-haired menace is yours then?” Eddie asks, turning to stand at Steve’s side and gesturing to where Dustin is talking with a balding man at the end of the car, “He’s been talking my Uncle’s ear off each time he’s come by.”

Steve nods, “Him and the redhead who’s… around here somewhere– there!” He points out Max as she heads outside into the sun, making her hair glow bright, “She’s my foster sister, Dustin’s mom took us both in about a year ago now, she was really great to take us in together, even with me being ‘aged out’ and all.. I wanted to make sure she had something stable going forward y’know? And I really don’t know why I’m telling you all that but.. There it is..”  

His face is going to be permanently red at this point, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind his rambling, looking at him with a mix of amusement and something else in his expression. “You can tell me whatever you want, whenever you want, Stevie.”

“Is that your way of asking for my number?” Steve asks on impulse.

Eddie laughs, “You give me way too much credit Stevie, I’m not even remotely close to that good of a smooth-talker,” he reaches into his back pocket and produces his phone, “But no way am I passing up the opportunity.”

Steve smiles and takes it, entering his information into Eddie’s phone, “Apologies to your uncle by the way,” he says as he sends himself a devil face emoji from Eddie’s cell, “Dusty can get to be too much sometimes. I hope he’s not giving you too much trouble?”

He hands back the phone as his own chimes in his pocket, taking it out and passing it to Eddie.

“Not at all; Wayne’s more than happy to talk about anything to anyone who’ll listen; He’s already told me everything he knows.”

“Don’t you mean ‘taught’?”

“Not in the slightest.” Eddie grins at Steve’s laughter, punches something into his phone and passes it back. “There you go, big boy, one brand new phone number just for you.”

Steve looks down at the screen, ‘super hot sexy metal deathlord eddie 😈🤘’ is at the top of his message screen.

He looks up at Eddie, who just waggles his eyebrows at him; Steve rolls his eyes, but can’t keep himself from smiling. “Perfect, thanks.”

“No problem…” he mimes looking down at his phone, “‘steve’.”

“Oi! Can you two flirt your way to the gut trucks, or are Dusty and I gonna have to get some grub ourselves?”

The two jump apart at Wayne’s words, both their cheeks burning (brighter in Eddie’s case).

“Yeah, yeah, shut your yaps, we’ll go get something.” Eddie grumbles, striding off toward where the food trucks are parked, pulling Steve along with him.

if you don't have one around you at this time, this is a real thing that happens in my area every may!! and it's on the 10th this year!! all of the things mentioned are things i've seen at my fair; my own pair of vamp fang earrings are truly a favorite pair of earrings i own :o) spiderweb divider from @saradika-graphics! vampire earring pic is from this etsy listing!

there will also be a part 2 to this tomorrow, LINK HERE!

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Tease

Steve Harrington x Reader

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: SMUT AHEAD! No use of Y/N. Pet names used. Reader has a vagina. Teasing. Oral (male receiving). Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

WC: 1.6K

His body is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving with every breath, sprawled out across the bed, boxers still on, hands cuffed above his head and securely attached to the headboard.

You chance a glance up to see his eyes screwed shut, face twisted in pleasure, pressed into his arm, teeth grazing his bicep to keep another whimper at bay while you're practically torturing him. You pause your current ministrations to truly look at him, cheeks and ears tinged pink along with his soft pouty lips, tousled brown locks sticking to his forehead.

You smirk at the mess you’ve made of him, blooms of maroon and dark purples along his neck and collar bones. There are faint teeth marks at the juncture of his throat where it meets his shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat mats down the hair across his chest, while his skin is glistening in the low light.

Beautiful. Your sweet, angelic boyfriend that lets you corrupt him like this.

He takes a shuddering breath, picking his head up, letting his gaze fall down to you when he realizes you’ve stopped. His honey hued irises a mere ring surrounding the inky black pupils blown wide with lust but the look on his face is soft, filled with a pure adoration.

His brow furrows slightly, lips parting, about to say something but you speak up.

“So pretty, Stevie.” You smile, lazy and saccharine. “Such a good boy for me.”

You watch the heat go to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, turning the pink to a slight shade of red at the praise as he lets out a small moan, closing his eyes as his head falls back against the pillow. For someone like Steve, who never seemed to get embarrassed you could easily fluster him with just a few simple words. Only you got to see him like this, the vulnerable side that let you take the lead and let him forget about the rest of the world.

You lean back down and mouth hot against cock, only the thin fabric separating you, already soaked through with your saliva and his precum as he almost growls, a deep rumble emanating from the back of his throat as his hips thrust up, searching for more. He's already so hard it’s starting to ache. You’ve been going at it for the last half hour and know he’s close to begging for relief at this point.

“Goddamnit baby.” He hisses through gritted teeth, bucking up again when your teeth lightly nip at him.

You hum, lips working over him still, before pulling back once more. “Do you think you've been good enough to cum for me Stevie?”

“God yes, please. Yes.” He whimpers out as your fingertips hook into his waistband, eyes meeting yours with a frenzied plea.

“Please… what baby?” You ask, voice dripping with sugar, taking the opportunity to tease him a little further.

“Please… let me cum…” He breathes out ragged and on edge, futilely pulling at the cuffs while you slowly pull his underwear down his legs as his cock is finally set free of its confinement. You hear the faintest moan as he melts back into the mattress.

The boxers are thrown somewhere across the room to join the rest of his clothing, but your eyes never leave him. His thick cock is resting toward his stomach, the tip an angry shade of red and leaking, making a mess of his happy trail. Leaning over, you plant a kiss to his hip as it kicks up, a thin thread of sticky spend right below his navel connecting back to his head.

“Honey… I… I can’t take all the teasing tonight. Please!” He begs and something in his voice lets you know he was telling the truth. He was too wound up.

“Shhh baby.” You coo. “Just relax. I've got you.”

Flattening your tongue, you carve a path up his hip bone, then across his stomach. His muscles tighten beneath you as he groans and writhes, still not reaching its intended target just yet, drawing it out a little more just to hear his breathy pleading.

“F—fuuuuuck honey…” He moans, as you grin, tongue flicking across his slippery tip.

“Mmmm… taste so good, Stevie.”

“Goddamn… yes.” He hisses, voice strained, as you wrap your hand around him, thumb swirling at his sensitive head catching and smearing his spend, spitting on his length to give you more to work with.

Schlick sounds fill the room along with his moans as your hand continues to work him up and down, up and down at a mere leisurely pace, giving him just enough to keep him satisfied but not enough to give him the relief he so desperately craves.

He whines as you pull your hand away and just for a moment, he thinks you're going to prolong his torture.

“Mouth or pussy?” You ask, another moan falling from his lips before he answers, voice hoarse and ragged, filled with need.

“P—pussy. Pussy! God, I need t’feel you.”

It was a silly question, really. You knew the answer before uttering it. He would rather cum in you, than waste it on a blowjob.

You start to clamber back up his body and situate yourself on his lap, trapping his cock between his stomach and your soaked folds.

It takes all of his will power not to drive his hips up into yours, letting you have control, as you line him up to your entrance. He watches you slowly sink down onto his throbbing cock. It was always a stretch, but you took him so well.

His eyes dart between your face and where the two of you were connected, as your own head falls back, hands splayed across his chest as you continued the slow, torturous task of taking him in, inch by inch, feeling every vein and ridge on the descent.

His face holds a mixture of both pain and pleasure, parted lips releasing a chorus of moans and whines as you spear yourself on his length.

“Mmmm… so big!” You cry out, eyes rolling back as his tip nudges your cervix letting you know you couldn't possibly take anymore, pausing briefly to catch your breath and ready yourself.

“That's it baby, takin’ me so fuckin' good.” He praises with a lopsided grin, making your pussy flutter around him with need, eliciting a hiss from him. “Fuck, m’not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

“S'okay baby.” You breathe out as your hips start to move. “All about you tonight.”

He starts to protest, but he can already feel himself on the edge of a losing battle, nodding and closing his eyes.

You lean back, placing your hands behind you gripping his knees for leverage as you start to bounce. He can't help himself from thrusting in time to meet you, as you both set a steady rhythm.

He's hanging on by a thread, each time he disappears inside you, his lower stomach clenches a little more, his balls tightening up with his impending release.

“F—fuck honey, jus— just like that.” He rushes out, eyes fixed on your naked form, as his cock slides in and out of your tight cunt.

“Cum for me baby!” You cry out, and that's all it takes to push him over.

He thrusts once, twice, three times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside you, giving you every last drop that he has with a deep grunt. He stills his hips to let you ride him through it, his chest heaving from the exertion.

“Baby… baby…” He whimpers, still twitching inside you, your greedy pussy wanting more, slowing your hips to a lazy roll as you drape yourself back over him.

“Mmmm. Bet that felt so good.” Your lips find his neck, trailing up his jaw. He's practically boneless beneath you, still trying to catch his breath as your hips grind to a halt.

He hums in response, thoroughly spent, a shiver running through him. His eyes flutter open to see you staring back at him with hearts in your eyes before leaning over him to retrieve the key from the nightstand to unlock him.

The cuffs slip away with a small audible click, his arms falling to either side of his head as you begin to ease up from his lap, tossing the cuffs back into the drawer but he stops you by throwing his arms around your waist holding you firmly to him.

“Mmph, no. No.” He murmurs, pulling you chest to chest, feeling his cock stir once more. “Don't go.”

In one fluid motion, he grips your hip and maneuvers you onto your back, head hitting the pillow before you had time to process what was happening.

“Oh.” You giggle. “Not done yet?”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, hips pushing lazily back into yours when he becomes rigid once again, his cum leaking out from around his thick cock.

Whatever words you had die on your tongue, as all thoughts are pushed from your mind with each slow and steady roll of his hips.

He kisses up your neck, just under your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“It’s your turn, pretty girl. Gonna fill this pussy over and over again.” He kisses your cheek sweetly as if he didn't just let those filthy words escape, before his next thrust takes your breath away. “Hang on angel, we’ve got all night.”

[steddiealltheway]

"You're dead, Harrington!"

Steve sprints off down the hall, making a sharp left turn in hopes of losing him. He looks around at the doors, eyes settling on the drama room. Yeah, no one would guess that he would go in there.

He runs and easily pulls the door open, softly closing it behind him, leaning against the door to listen for Billy.

"You can't run from me!" he yells, somewhere outside in the hallway.

Shit.

Steve backs up a bit until he runs into something, and suddenly there's a hand covering his mouth with rings digging into his cheek while a bit of silver glints in his eyes. "Don't freak out, Harrington. I'm here to help. Hide behind the red curtain."

The guy lets him go, and Steve whips around taking in the guy everyone calls "The Freak." He just raises his eyebrows at him, so Steve takes the hint and darts behind the red curtains behind a throne of some kind.

There's a slight creaking, then Steve hears the door swing open and slam against the wall.

"Billy Hargrove. I didn't know you were interested in theatre," the freak says smugly. Eddie? That's his name, right?

"I'm not," Billy grits out. "I'm looking for Harrington. Seen him anywhere, freak?"

"Why would he be in here?"

Steve hears heavy footsteps as he walks closer to the curtain. "That's not what I asked," Billy says darkly.

"Well, I answered, didn't I?" Eddie replies, voice low with an undertone of danger. Shit, Steve didn't know he had it in him. "If you're so dense, then let me clarify. I haven't seen him. Now get lost or you'll never find him before lunch is over."

There's a pause, and Steve is certain that a fight is about to break out. Only, nothing really happens until Billy says, "One day you're going to pay for that, freak."

"Looking forward to it," Eddie says sarcastically.

A few seconds later and the door closes. There's a click that sounds like the lock turning which has Steve peeking out of the curtain.

"You can come out now."

Steve steps outside the curtain slowly, making sure this isn't some sort of sick joke. But he doesn't think Billy is that much of a planner, he's too impulsive.

When he doesn't spot him, Steve says, "Thanks. It's Eddie, right?"

The other boy looks surprised and even gets a small smile on his face. "Yeah."

"I'm Steve," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand and everything.

He gets a scoff and a, "Yeah, I know," in response, but Eddie still takes his hand and shakes it.

"I like your rings," Steve says genuinely. They're cool really. He wishes he would wear something like that without his parents and teammates getting onto him about it.

"Thanks," Eddie says, pulling a bit of his hair in front of his hair. It's cute really, almost like he's flustered.

Huh. He'll unpack that thought later.

"How did you get Billy to back off like that? I've never seen anyone do that." He can't help but be in a bit of awe about the whole thing.

Eddie chuckles. "I supply his weed. He knows better than to hurt me."

"Mabe I should start selling him weed then."

Eddie laughs loudly, showing off his dimples. Steve can't help but smile back.

"Hey," Eddie says, making his way to the throne and sitting back. "What did you do to get him that riled up anyways?"

Steve groans and takes a seat at the table in front of Eddie. "I know his little sister, Max. I just asked him how she was doing, and he freaked out. I think he misunderstood my tone."

Eddie laughs again, and Steve starts to believe that maybe the whole thing was worth it to see the boy's smile.

A silence settles between them, but Steve doesn't mind. It gives him a chance to look at him more.

It must fluster Eddie again because he ducks his head down and shakes his head.

"What?" Steve can't help but ask.

Eddie looks back at him. "Nothing, I just can't believe that Steve Harrington is sitting at my D and D table."

D&D... "Oh, that's like Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Eddie's jaw drops. "You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?"

Steve shrugs. "My friend plays it, but he's in middle school, so you wouldn't know him. But hey, that's where the demogorgan thing comes from, right?"

Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief mumbling something under his breath like He's friends with middle schoolers, and he knows what a demogorgan is. What the hell? Am I dreaming? He shakes his head and says clearly, "Yeah, yeah, that's where the Demogorgan comes from."

Another silence settles between them, and Steve doesn't know why he says it but he asks, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"

Once again, it looks like Eddie is about to have a meltdown, but Steve stands his ground. He's curious really.

Eddie shifts in his seat a bit uncomfortably before quietly asking, "Haven't you heard the rumors?"

Steve leans back in his seat and scratches his face absentmindedly. He's heard about "The Freak" before, but he didn't really pay much attention. He knows he sells weed. He failed senior year once or twice, he forgot how many times people said. And he once heard that he's a...

Oh.

"So, do you have a boyfriend then?"

Eddie freezes, fear evident all over his tense body.

"It's fine if you do," Steve assures him.

Eddie runs both his hands over his face and questions out loud, "Am I dreaming?"

"Do you dream about me often?" Steve flirts, leaning forward on the table. He can't help it, he likes how affected Eddie is by him.

Eddie looks at him for a solid fifteen seconds, tongue running over his top lip and brows furrowed in deep thought. He relaxes against his chair with a sigh. "You're not at all what people say you are."

Steve shrugs, uncomfortable that the topic has turned to be about him. "I try not to be."

"It's a good thing," Eddie says.

Steve smiles. He didn't know how much he needed to hear that.

The bell rings, and Steve feels a pang of disappointment.

"Hey," Eddie says as he stands up alongside Steve. He reaches into his black metal lunchbox and pulls out a sandwich in a little bag and a banana. He tears the sandwich in half and offers it to Steve along with the banana. "It isn't much, but I doubt you ate lunch. Have to keep all our star players in shape, right?" he asks with a wink.

Steve wishes he could stay longer to see him relax more. He takes them both, unpeeling the banana quickly while asking, "Is that weed in there?"

"Among other things."

Steve laughs and takes a large bite of the banana that has Eddie looking away, turning a light shade of red. Now he really wishes he could stay longer.

He finishes his bite and says, "Hey, it was really nice to meet you by the way."

"You too," Eddie says with a soft smile, finally looking back at him.

The warning bell rings.

Steve sighs. "I'll see you around, and hey, pass on a word to the next D and D leader about Dustin Henderson, will you?"

"Will do," Eddie says, and Steve's glad that it sounds like a promise.

He heads to the door and unlocks it quickly, pausing to rush back and press a soft kiss on Eddie's cheek. "Thank you again," he says before rushing out of the room with his heart pounding and a blush spreading over his face.

He can't help but think that he should thank Billy for being such an asshole.

[tartarusknight]

Time Loop where it's Eddie stuck. He wakes up after dying by the bats and thinks it's just deja vu. Only during the third, he thinks maybe he's in hell. That he's forced to repeat the worst moment of his life for the rest of eternity. That maybe his dad was right and heaven and hell was real. That being gay was a sin and that now he's paying for it.

Yet by the fifth repeat, he tries something new. He thinks fuck it and does what he wants. He first with Steve Harrington who blushes easily and freezes like a rabbit in a headlight. He doesn't make Eddie feel like an abomination, in fact, it seemed to Eddie that he got flustered by the attention.

Which well, if this was hell, why give him a moment of light in the dark? So it isn't the only thing he does differently. No. When the bats come swarming in Eddie takes out a can of hair spray stolen from the camper and lights the fuckers on fire. He laughs even as one attacks him from behind.

He messes around during the next loop and the one after that and the one after that. But on the 10 or maybe 12th loop, he thinks that maybe it's not hell. How could it be when he gets moments with his friends and can flirt with a boy that might like him back.

So he starts to change more after that. The first thing he does is save himself. Being sick of his painful end, he gets him and Dustin out of the Upside Down the moment they get into the trailer. Then through the trailer and hidden a little ways down.

That's when he learns that not only does he die, but they still loose in the end. He's forced to accept that he had been dying for nothing. That they needed him alive and they needed a better plan.

So in the next loop he tells the group when he wakes up in Max's trailer. He explains it all and no one believes him. No one but Steve. Steve who tried to ignore Nancy's vision and repeated told Eddie through the loops that everyone would work out. Steve who raised a bitchy eyebrow at Dustin when the kid talked about electromagnetic fields and shit.

And as he tries again and again, he knows another constant. Steve trusts him readily.

[buckysgrace]

Let Me

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

CW: Mentions of smut but no actual smut, lots of fluff hehe <3

Steve gets embarrassed after he cums too fast when you crawl on top.

You were breathless, slightly sweaty as you rolled over to where your boyfriend had one hand over his face, his cheeks still flushed as he shook his head back and forth. You were biting back your laughter, a little amazed at how sheepish he had become.

"Don't look at me." He mumbled as he pressed his other hand over his face, hiding away the way his face had burned red. You shifted up onto your knees, letting the sheets fall away from your body as a little laugh left your lips again.

"Steve, it's alright." You promised as you wrapped your fingers around his wrists, noting how much larger his hands were than yours. He grumbled as he wiggled his face into the pillows this time.

"Don't touch me." He whined pathetically, tugging the sheet in his direction so he could try and hide his face underneath it. You laughed as you moved it back, leaning forward to kiss his flushed cheek.

"You're fine, really." You promised him as you played with his brown strands. You got a peep at as forehead before he buried his face into the pillows.

"No, it's embarrassing." He corrected, voice muffled as he hid himself away. You shook your head, leaning forward to trace your lips across his shoulder blades.

You thought he was being dramatic, just a little bit. Sure, you had only sunk on top of him for maybe two minutes before he burst into his condom, humiliation taking over the pleasure on his features a moment later.

You weren't at all offended, you were actually flattered. But there was no convincing him as he hid away, mumbling about being worse than a teenager. But it made you giggle.

"Stevie," you grinned as you traced your lips over his moles, wondering how long it would take to kiss every single one that decorated his skin, "it's fine. I promise." You hummed as you lightly nipped at his back muscles. He yelped, sitting up that time.

"I think you like seeing me suffer." He replied as he glanced towards you, eyes all hazy and soft. You cupped his face, smiling as you leaned forward to peck his lips.

"Me?" you questioned, grinning at the way he hummed against your lips in response, "I would never." You scoffed playfully, knowing that you quite enjoyed getting him flustered. But you would never admit to it.

And this incident hadn't been on purpose, not at all. You'd climbed on top of him various different times and never had him fall apart so easily. You couldn't deny that you loved it.

"Mhm," he smiled as he rested his cheek against the pillow, his long fingers dancing across your jawline, "I'm going to remember this." He threatened jokingly, making you laugh. His threats were never very serious.

"Trust me, I will too." You giggled as he groaned again, pulling away so he could cover his face with his palms. You grinned at the banner, glad that you could play with him.

[ghostlyfleur]

okay but steve harrington + shy! innocent! crybaby-ish reader where he is like play fighting with her and tickling her to the point where he’s pinned her down and she’s laughing so cute! but secretly, the weight of her boy on top of her and his hands all over her thighs and stomach, is making her rlly rlly wet 🥹

she’s like “steveee stop tickling me!” bc she can’t take it anymore and he does! but he also fully takes his weight off of her which makes her start huffing and whining for him to come back, grabby hands shooting out at him. steve is confused, ofc, like “honey i thought you wanted me to stop?” and she’s so embarrassed covering her face, squeezing her thighs and almost, if not, crying in frustration.

steve pulls her hands off her face to see her eyes, laying back down on her body when her legs spread open again, looking at her to explain further, but all she can do is whine that “it hurts s’bad stevie”.

he’s confused for a moment but then he glances down and her ridden-up oversized t-shirt reveals the wet spot forming on her panties. he presses a big kiss on his angel’s lips before cooing on her mouth, lightly touching her clothed cunt, “aw honey you wanted me to stop bc your lil pussy got all wet f’me, huh? is that what you were trying to say?”

to which she responds something like “wanted y’to stop ticklin’ me, not to stop touching me :,(“! steve finds his lovely girl so adorable, he makes sure to take good care of her afterwards, like always! maybe even mocking her just a bit from getting so turned on from a little tickling 🫠

holy shiiiiit — normal sized font below the cut

this is definitely soft dom!daddy!steve…

like he’s so doting and caring and careful and affectionate, always spoiling and praising his angel, being all playful and funny and silly like he always is— and the two are best friends, don’t get it twisted! they’re dating, but they’re still the best of friends… they banter and play fight and mock each other, share secrets and personal thoughts and feelings and they gossip together, play pranks on each other… all the good best friend things…

so they’re very close. very. loyal and devoted and completely obsessed with each other. as much as steve’s sweet girl loves to dote on him and take care of him, it’s more so her stevie’s self-assigned job to care for his baby.

and so steve buys her flowers, takes her on cute dates, is always looking out for her and can’t help his casual dominance, tying her shoes and carrying her places sometimes and brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll. slowly acclimates her to what being in a relationship is like, he’s so so patient.

but he’s so hungry for her, it drives him insane how oblivious she is to the affect she has on him, how fucking adorable and clueless she is but also so very eager to please— because that’s all she wants, to be stevie’s good girl, to make him feel safe and loved and cared for, to make him feel good. but she gets greedy easily now… now that steve has ingrained in her mind that he truly wants her and loves her, that he’s all hers, that he wants to spoil her, marry her and make her his little wife, and spend his entire life with her!!!!!! her! his best friend! his person! they’re soulmates after all!!!!!!

her shyness stays, it’s just who she is (and steve finds it so fucking cute he has to constantly hold himself back from cooing at her all the time), but she’s just so horny for her stevie and doesn’t know how to say it ‘cause she’s so embarrassed and flustered and unsure and finds it hard to voice her needs and wants, so it manifests into tears. whenever she wants something from her stevie she gets all soft and small and pouty, grabbing at him and whining and holding his fingers to get his attention, and steve coos at her, can’t help it, his sweet angel girl so needy, and he always wants to give her the world, right? that’s his baby! she deserves to be spoiled! but her stevie is very clear in his rules— you have to speak up, tell him what you want, communicate. that’s very important to him.

and yeah, in theory his angel thinks it’s perfect, the communication and attention and how safe it makes her feel, but she physically can’t speak up when her stevie is making her feel all these sweet, intense, pretty feelings that she’s never felt before, even though she knows her stevie, her daddy, will always give her whatever she wants 😖 she just gets so pouty and teary-eyed and huffs and puffs, crossing her arms or stomping her foot like a spoiled brat until she’s so desperate bc her stevie is adamant she has to tell him what she wants before he does anything, that he’ll give her whatever she wants if she asks for it, that she whines and mumbles and asks him “pretty please, daddy” and steve is gone.

when her perfect, incredible, dreamy stevie is playing around with her, after she teases him or mocks him or they pretend-fight, or when they’re joking around, he’ll tickle her ‘cause she has the cutest little giggles, even though her laugh is kind of weird— sometimes loud, sometimes silent, sometimes she’ll fall down from laughing so hard. still, he loves it. it’s his favorite sound in the world, along with her little needy noises. it’s always different and funny and steve loves finding out what kind of laugh he’ll get out of his sweet girl that day, so he tickles. and if there’s one thing about his angel is that she loves using him as a weighted blanket, loves his weight on her, pressing her down and molding their bodies together, so that coupled with how his hands are all over her body, fingers gripping her and poking at her, his bulge rubbing against her, she gets needy. wet. very greedy. but if her stevie gets up or pulls away or sits back????? away from her????? she’ll turn into such a crybaby, like it’s the most insulting thing he could ever do, to pull away.

and steve knows. he knows how much she’s taken to steve being all over her, making her feel good, letting her explore and learn what they both like, being the only one to touch her and her him, but she still carries this air of innocence and softness and inexperience that drives him up the wall. the little looks she gives him and the shy smiles and the eagerness. she’ll be the horniest little minx, crawling up his lap and rubbing her cunt against his thigh, but will also hide her face and whimper and get all shy even if steve is balls deep inside her.

the duality of her never fails to disarm him completely. steve definitely tickles his angel sometimes when he wants to rile her up and get her needy for him— he thinks she’s clueless about it, but soon it turns into this thing where steve has pretty much conditioned her to turn into a needy little mess whenever he starts tickling her— she gets wet instantly now.

[sunshinesteviee]

mvp - s.h.

summary: you think steve deserves a prize after his baseball game for being the MVP; baseball player!steve wc: 3.9k warnings: a bit of baseball, but it's honestly not too heavy on it lol. this is mostly smut!! 18+ only, mdni!!!! car sex, but they're in the middle of nowhere, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv (pls be smart); fem!reader a/n: alright this has been in the works for fuckin forever, but it's finally done!! i hope it lives up to the hype lol. huge shoutout to @harringtonswriting for the original idea forever ago, and to @stevebabey for listening to me cry abt this for the past month and a half lol. enjoy!!!

Masterlist

huge thank you to @inkluvs for this^ cutie and to @t-lostinworlds for this gorgeous moodboard!!

It’s a surprisingly nice evening for summer in Indiana. There’s a warm breeze that kisses your cheeks and keeps you cool under the late afternoon sun. Perfect for one of Steve’s baseball games. The last few you went to were unbearably hot, so even though it’s still warm, and you’re still sweating a bit, this is much better. Not that you’re paying much attention to the weather with how close this game is. 

His team is up by two points in the top of the ninth, and there’s someone on base, but if they hold them off from scoring, they’ll win. Steve’s pitching, and you know he’s feeling a lot of pressure, especially since this is a pretty important game near the end of the season. But you also know that he’s totally got this. He’s been pitching so many strikeouts this game, and he can definitely do one more. 

He stands at the pitcher’s mound, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he squints at his catcher. He looks fucking beautiful, quite honestly. Tan skin glowing in the golden hour sun, the sleeves of his jersey tight around his biceps. Pretty hair tucked under his hat, the eyeblack he’d carefully applied before the game smeared across his cheeks. You might just have to jump his bones when the game is over. 

Steve gets into position, presses the ball into his glove, and takes a deep breath. You stand from your seat on the rusty bleachers, metal creaking underneath you, to get a better view of the field. Someone behind you — probably Jessica, another player’s girlfriend — huffs in annoyance, but you ignore her, too caught up in Steve, and sending him all of the good luck you can. He moves into his windup position, takes another deep breath, and sends the ball over the plate in a perfect strike that the batter watches go by. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and whistle loudly, earning you even more dirty looks from the people sitting around you. Half of them are supporters of the other team, so you can’t blame them, but you’re not going to quiet your support for your boyfriend. You know he can hear you — his eyes flick to yours for just a moment when he hears your whistle, and his mouth pulls up at one corner almost imperceptibly. He winks at you, subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone else, but the cockiness makes you flustered and causes you to roll your eyes at the same time. 

The rest of the inning flies by with a pop-up to right field that’s easily caught by Steve’s teammate, and another strikeout pitched by Steve — one that the batter watches go by. You’d cheered again, even louder than before, and blew him a kiss as he ran off the field. 

Now you’re waiting for him, not so patiently, on the bleachers. You usually have to wait a bit while the team debriefs, and while you don’t mind most of the time, you’re feeling antsy today. You want him in more ways than one, and you don’t know how much longer you can wait. Thankfully, due to a good game and short debrief, it’s not too long until the players start filtering off of the field. Steve is always one of the last ones out, but you stand up in search of him anyway. 

“Harrington!” you shout Steve’s name as he exits the dugout, waving a hand in the air as you bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. 

Hearing the sound of your voice, Steve’s head whips in your direction, and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen is on his face. He gives you a wave before turning back to the teammate he’d walked out with, saying something you can’t make out as he slaps his back and then makes a beeline for you. After the game, his uniform is awry; jersey half tucked in, hat on backwards, and he’s so sweaty, but somehow, you don’t mind. His bat bag is slung over his shoulder, but it’s quickly dumped on the ground as he approaches you in favor of scooping you up into his arms, “Baby!”

You let out a shriek and throw your arms around his neck as he lifts you off of the ground. Your toes are barely an inch from the grass, but it’s enough to have you clutching onto him. He’s still sweaty, having just come off the field, but you don’t mind. “Steve! You did so good, baby!”

Steve sets you back on your feet, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead with another blinding grin, “Thanks, honey. All for you.” His hands are still looped around your waist, resting gently against the small of your back. “Heard you cheering the entire game.”

“Yeah?” you ask, returning his grin as your fingers trace along the neckline of his jersey. “Good. Matt’s girlfriend kept giving me dirty looks for cheering so loud, but I think she’s just jealous her boyfriend isn’t as hot or talented as mine. I’ve got an all-star. The MVP.”

Dark pink colors Steve’s face from his neck all the way up to the tips of his ears, even though he’s still smiling at you, “Stop it. I’m not—“

“Don’t even start!” you quickly cut him off, placing a finger against his lips, “If I remember correctly, it was you who pitched a bunch of strikeouts, and held them off in the last inning. I’m so proud of you.” 

He wants to argue, but you’re staring at him full of pride, so he gives in. His cheeks are still flushed pink as he smiles at you, pursing his lips to kiss the finger still pressed to his lips, “Thanks, baby. Love you so much. Couldn’t do it without you.”

You know that’s not true — you show up to all of his games, and sometimes you pack him extra snacks and water, but that’s about it. He’s the one who puts in all of the hard work during practice, at games, and during all of the other time he uses to improve. You are really proud of him, in every single way, and you want to let him know. Threading your fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, you lean up on your toes to whisper in his ear, “I think the MVP deserves a prize. What do you think, handsome?”

Steve’s eyes grow wide, hands spreading over your hips to keep your body flush to his. He stumbles over his words when he finally speaks, “Shit, baby, I-I… yeah, okay.”

Leaning up on your toes, you give Steve a grin before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Should we go?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods quickly, leaning into you for a kiss. He kisses you with just enough force that you bend at the waist slightly, giggling against his lips as you grasp at his shoulders. 

“Okay, okay. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you push at him gently, though you’re grinning when he pulls back. 

He lets out a soft huff, eyes narrowing playfully at you as he grabs his bat bag and hoists it up over his shoulder again. He’s quick to start the trek back to his car, turning to face you as he walks backward with a cheeky grin on his face. His arms are held out to his sides as he calls, “You comin’ with me or what, babe?”

Not wanting him to get too far ahead, you jog to catch up to him, slipping your hand into his as your shoulders bump, “You don’t even know what the prize is, Stevie.”

Scoffing, Steve turns to you with a smug and knowing smile on his lips, “Oh, I know what it is.” Still, he’s gentle with you, giving your hand a soft squeeze and throwing a ridiculously exaggerated wink your way to make you smile. He dumps his gear into the trunk of his car, letting it close with a loud thud as he turns to you, arms caging your body against the side of his car. His breath is hot on your neck as he dips down so his lips ghost over the skin just below your ear, “The prize… it’s not actually a physical prize, right?”

You can’t help it — you let out a laugh, head tilting back as you wrap your arms around Steve’s neck to draw him in closer, “Depends on what you mean by physical…” 

“Baby,” Steve groans with a laugh, taking advantage of your exposed skin by pressing wet kisses up the side of your neck and along your jaw. You want to reply with another sarcastic remark, but your breath hitches as his teeth graze your skin. So, instead, you cup his jaw in your hands and pull his mouth to yours for a kiss. 

-

The sun is starting to smolder low in the sky, nearly sinking beneath the horizon to cast the sky in pretty oranges and pinks as Steve finally pulls out of the parking lot and heads for your shared apartment. His hand reaches over the center console to rest on your thigh, a warm, heavy weight on your bare skin. He’s already been causing trouble, with the way he’d kissed you against the car, and you have a feeling you’re not going to make it home in a timely manner. 

Music is playing on the radio, something top 40 that Steve is humming under his breath as he drives. You’re having a hard time figuring out what the song is with the way his fingertips press into the softness of your inner thigh and brush up ever so slightly. Sucking in a breath, you glance in his direction, only to find that aside from the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly, he’s keeping any indication of what he’s thinking off of his face. 

He looks so pretty in the golden light streaming in through the windows that it’s almost hard to believe he’s real. Reaching out across the gap between you, you tuck a few strands of his messy hair behind his ear and then drag the pad of your thumb across his jaw. You trace over a few of the cute moles scattered over his face and wish you could kiss each and every single one of them, but he’s a bit too far away. Letting out a dramatic sigh, you let a lock of his hair slip from your fingers back into its place. 

At the forlorn sound, Steve’s eyes flick from the road over to you as he laughs under his breath. He twists just a little bit further to press a kiss to the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist, and though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, he asks, “What, sweetheart?”

“I think I might combust if I can’t kiss you or touch you within the next minute.” 

Steve lets out a laugh, breath hitching as your own hand drops from his hair to his thigh, “We’re like ten minutes from home, honey.” He’s trying his best to stay casual, but he’s feeling about the same as you, especially with your hand on him now. 

“Can’t wait ten minutes, baby. Want you now. Don’t you want your prize?”

“Jesus christ,” he huffs out quickly, hazarding a glance to the hand on his thigh that’s creeping upwards before scanning the road, “Alright, okay, baby, just— just let me pull over. Fuck.”

There aren’t many perks to living in the middle of nowhere Indiana, but if you have to pick one, being able to pull over pretty much anywhere you want to fuck your boyfriend in the front seat of his car is definitely up there. It takes a moment before Steve spots a secluded area and pulls off of the road, dirt and gravel crunching under the tires as he rolls to a stop. The second his car is in park, you unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly launch yourself over the center console into Steve’s lap. 

He laughs in surprise, but it’s cut off by your mouth on his, kissing him like it might be your last chance. There’s not much room in the front seat, and you huff as your knees press into the console and the door on either side of his lap, the skirt of the dress you’re wearing riding up your thighs. It’s not exactly comfortable, but you quickly become too distracted by Steve — his lips pressed to your neck in a bruising kiss, his hardening cock underneath you — to care. And the way he’s gripping your hips to pull you closer isn’t helping. 

Your hips roll forward as you press closer to him, drawing stuttering breaths from both of you. It feels like his hands are everywhere, sliding up your exposed thighs to your waist, warm even through the fabric of your dress, before traveling further up your body to cup your breasts. You’d had to forgo a bra in this dress, and Steve isn't oblivious to this fact; he’d noticed right away, and was going to take advantage of that. 

Wet kisses press to your collarbone as he dips lower, fingers sliding under the thin straps of your dress to tug them off your shoulders, “Looked so pretty in the stands today, baby. Y’always do, but this pretty little dress…” He all but groans, pulling the top of your dress down your chest. More kisses trail along your exposed flesh, the dull scrape of his teeth followed by another hickey pulls a gasp from you. 

With his mouth on you, he’s making it real hard to form a coherent sentence, “Christ, Steve— we can’t— don’t have time for—“ 

A sharp tug to the hair at the nape of his neck finally gets his attention, and he pops back up with a huff, narrowing his eyes playfully at you, “Sorry. Sorry. Not my fault you’ve got perfect tits, honey.” He squeezes your breasts as if to make a point, not quite roughly, but not gently either, thumbs brushing over your nipples. 

“Steve,” you admonish playfully with a roll of your eyes, slapping at his chest. You giggle, though, leaning forward to kiss him again. Your fingers work at the buttons on his jersey as you kiss. It’s not really a necessity, but you want to feel his warm, golden skin and the hair on his chest, kiss the moles that are littered on his torso. Your fingers trail down his chest, and you can feel it heave at your light touches, a stuttering breath as you inch closer to his pants. 

After unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper, the two of you shuffle around in the front seat to get his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock. Your hand wraps around the base, a gentle touch as you stroke up his length. Precum leaks from the tip, messy on your hand as your thumb rubs over his slit. Steve hisses at the touch, hips trying to push up into your hand, “Shit, honey—“

“Feel good?” you ask, a bit smug as you twist your wrist mid-stroke. 

“So good. Need— ah— wanna touch you, too, babe. Lemme…” Steve trails off and one hand presses into the small of your back, reaching down behind you with the other one to pull the lever on the seat. The seat slides all the way back to give you more room, but it moves quickly, leaving you scrambling to hold onto Steve and his jersey. He laughs at your surprised expression, hands moving to settle on your thighs, “That’s better. More room.”

His palms slide up the lengths of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part until they slip under your flowy dress and bump into the fabric of your underwear. One finger slips just underneath the lacy trim at the edge, running back and forth lightly, “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding quickly as Steve’s fingers press into the wet spot forming on your panties. “Please, baby.” 

He rubs your clit softly through your underwear once, twice, and just before you’re about to complain, his fingers hook into the fabric and tug it to the side, tracing up your slit, “Already so wet for me, huh?” 

“You– fuck– you look so hot in your uniform, baby, ‘s not my fault,” you huff, shifting your hips to try to get him right where you want him. 

Steve’s fingers dip back down, circling your entrance in a teasing touch before two ease into your cunt. He’s slow with it, almost infuriatingly so, as he spreads you open. You gasp into the crook of his neck, only just remembering that this is supposed to be about him, and resume the slow stroke of your hand on his cock. The air is filled with soft breaths as you touch each other, Steve’s breath warm against your skin, and it’s all you can hear, even though the radio is still playing quietly. 

When his fingers curl inside of you, pressing into the perfect spot, you whine, “Want you inside of me, Stevie. Need you.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a grin, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. He hums around his fingers, pulling them from his lips with a small pop sound, “Taste so good, honey.” 

Pleasure twists low in your tummy at the sight of his fingers in his mouth, at his dirty words, and you whimper. You can’t wait much longer, so you don’t, shifting up onto your knees the best you can in the tight space without bumping into the roof of Steve’s car. One of your hands slides over Steve’s shoulder, keeping yourself steady as you slip the other hand between your bodies to line Steve up with your entrance. 

Warm hands rest at your hips, fingers splaying out wide to hold you as you sink down onto Steve’s cock slowly. You both moan softly, your thighs shaking as you lower yourself until he’s fully inside of you. There’s always an aching stretch, and it takes a moment for you to adjust, gasping into the crook of Steve’s neck, “Shit, Stevie, you– you’re so big, fuck.” 

Steve laughs, a breathless sound, hands flexing against your skin as he fights the urge to thrust his hips up, “Y’sure know how to sweet talk.” 

“Shut up,” you huff playfully, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jersey as you rock your hips forward once. Steve lets out his own strangled, gasping noise at the sudden movement and you grin, feeling smug. 

You lift yourself back up slightly, a sweet, slow drag of his cock through your tight cunt, and then rock back down, grinding into him. Steve swears under his breath, hands moving from your hips to your ass to help you fuck yourself on his cock. It takes a moment, but you settle into a rhythm with Steve’s help, circling your hips against his, back and forth, up and down. Your thighs start to burn from the effort, but it’s worth it for the dazed look Steve has on his face. 

“Christ, babe,” he mutters, squeezing your ass as he presses wet kisses across your chest, “ridin’ me like a champ. So good for me.”

You clench around him at his praise, moaning in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. Your fingers travel up from the collar of his jersey to his hair, curling into the strands at the nape of his neck under his cap, and you surge forward to kiss him. It’s messy, your lips sliding against his in an open-mouthed kiss. 

It’s so hot in the car that between the warm summer air and the warmth radiating from your bodies, the windows of the car start to fog up. If anyone were to see the car, they’d know exactly what was happening, but thankfully, there’s likely no one around for miles. Sweat beads at Steve’s hairline as he begins to thrust his hips up to meet yours, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your ass hard enough that it might leave bruises. You falter as his hips smack yours with a filthy sound, pushing your face into Steve’s warm shoulder as you moan, “Steve, fuck— ’m close— oh god, I need—”

“I got you, baby,” he mumbles into your skin, his breath fanning across your shoulder, making you shiver. One strong arm hooks around your waist while his other hand finds its way between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with the thrust of his hips. He’s babbling, praises for you spilling from his pretty, pink lips, “Look so pretty on my cock, baby, takin’ me so well, yeah? Fuck, I love you so much, you’re perfect. So fuckin’ tight for me, y’close, huh? Gonna cum for me?” 

You can feel the way he twitches as you clench around his cock, your thighs tight against his hips, entire body tensing as pleasure washes over you. Your chest pushes into his as you tip over the edge, slick skin against slick skin, “Oh god, fuckfuckfuck.” 

The thrust of Steve’s hips up into yours grows sloppy, but he doesn’t let up, thumb swiping over your clit as you ride out your high. He’s not far behind you, groaning your name into the crook of your neck as he cums hard. You have enough of a mind to continue to rock your hips against his until he’s spent, breathing hard. 

His hand on your back pushes under your sundress, stroking up the curve of your spine gently, a soft and intimate touch. It’s silent as you both try to catch your breath, trading soft kisses on damp skin and parted lips. 

You speak first, a small laugh as you push your sticky chest off of Steve’s, “Holy shit, it’s hot in here.”

“Yeah it is,” he says with a cheeky grin, giving your ass a rough squeeze as his gaze dips down to your breasts. He leans forward, pressing another soft kiss to the swell of your breast, just above the nipple, making you shiver. He all but giggles at your reaction and leans back into his seat, with a heaving breath, “Fuck, it is hot, though. Lemme open the windows.” 

Reaching over with one hand, Steve opens the driver-side window, letting in the cool evening air. It feels nice on your warm skin, and you close your eyes, turning your face into the breeze. You can feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, he’s still staring at you, eyes a soft honey color in the last of the sunlight. 

“I love you,” you say, quietly, almost shy. 

“I love you, more, honey,” he replies easily, a grin breaking out on his face.

You kiss him one last time before pushing up off of his lap, wincing as he slips out of you. Shuffling backwards, you pull your underwear back into place, and tug the top of your dress back up your chest, adjusting the straps. Steve helps you back over the console into the passenger seat before fixing his own clothes. You’re still flushed, so you quickly roll your own window down and stick your arm out. Your fingers flutter in the breeze as Steve pulls back into the main road, turning the volume of the radio up. 

Steve’s hand reaches out towards you, settling on your thigh once again, though maybe a bit more innocently this time. You rest your hand over his, your fingers curling between his as you tease, “Hope you enjoyed your prize, MVP.”

He laughs, head tipping back against his seat, hand squeezing your thigh gently, “Shit, babe, after that, I think you deserve the MVP title.” 

-

a few other tags hehe

@underoossss @sattlersquarry

[steddieunderdogfics]

For the Challenge Monday prompt for fics with seasons in the title, I've got:

summer lovin' by saltsweatsugar

Camp Folktale, Summer of '86 by cairparavels

summer leaguers by phantomroostermusical

Summers going fast, Nights Growing Colder by StarsHideYourFires

I don't know if they all necessarily count as "underdog" fics but enjoy! 🤷‍♀️

summer lovin' by saltsweatsugar

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

352 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Trans Eddie Munson, not explicitly referenced but its important to me that u know., Kissing, Intimacy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Dorks in Love, thats it thats the fic, its a lil messy but i love it dearly. dont ask my questions i cant explain myself, Not Beta Read, maybe ooc. idk

Summary:

steve kisses the center of his chest and eddie doesn't think he's ever felt this loved.

Camp Folktale, Summer of ‘86 by cairparavels

Rating: Not Rated

113,859 words, 47/47 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Hurt Eddie Munson, Eddie is nice to everyone but Steve and no one knows why, Miscommunication, Swimming, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Trying His Best, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Campfires, Cryptids, Ghost Stories, Power Outages, Secret Admirer, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Found Family, Eddie and Steve are reluctant dads, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Jealousy, eddie munson is a virgin, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Eddie Munson Gets Flustered Very Easily, So does Steve but he would never admit it, Not Beta Read, Tolkien References, Kissing, Making Out, Makeup, Flea Markets, Skinny Dipping, underwater kissing, Saving the camp, Eventual Smut, Smut, Overuse of italics

Summary:

When Steve applies for a summer camp per Dustin's request, he doesn’t expect to have the most interesting summer of his life. Featuring a sulky metalhead who hates Steve for no reason, eight kids set on driving Steve to an early grave, Robin Buckley’s ability to charm any girl she wants, and Steve’s bisexual disaster/dream/nightmare. But hey, that’s what summer camp is all about. Right?

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with a Season in Title.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[kennahjune]

Flustered (But He’d Never Admit It)

Thanks so much to @rogueddie for letting me write this based on their post!!

( @steddiewithachance )

Desperately hope it lives up to standard 🫡

.

Eddie hadn’t planned on going out, really.

It was a Saturday and he looked forwards to sleeping until noon the next day. Maybe bothering Steve and Robin in Family Video at some point if he decided to grace the people of Hawkins with his presence.

But Nancy of all people had asked him to come. And when Big Wheels asked him to do something, Eddie sure as shit did it.

So he sat in the living room of Steve’s no-longer-really-scarily-empty house. Because Mr and Mrs. Harrington left after the earthquakes and gave the house to Steve. He’s been steadily personalizing it.

Eddie sat between Argyle and Robin on the couch, letting his gaze wander around and land on each photo hanging on the walls.

Nancy and Jonathan sat across from them on the other couch, Nancy’s feet thrown in Jonathan’s lap while he gently rubbed her calfs.

Eddie wasn’t listening too intently to the bickering going on around him, his mind in other places while waiting for Steve.

“HURRY THE FUCK UP, DINGUS!” Robin yelled. Speak of the Devil.

Eddie flinched, as Robin was directly in his fucking ear. He shot her a glare that she returned with a punch to the shoulder.

“HOLD YOUR HORSES, DIMWIT, IM DONE!” was what Steve yelled back from upstairs. Eddie and Argyle snorted at Robin’s offended gasp.

Steve appeared in the living room a few seconds later, struggling to tie his sneakers while hopping on one foot.

“You look like a worm,” Argyle pointed out helpfully.

Steve nearly face planted after he was done, his arms flailing and his hand catching on the back of Jonathan’s head.

“Ouch, dude!!” Jonathan yelled when Steve pulled his hair. Nancy and Robin absolutely cackled at Steve’s unapologetic shrug.

“My bad.”

Jonathan glared and rubbed the back of his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Steve fluttered his eyelashes and put a hand on his chest. “You think I’m cute, Jonny? Why, you might as well get down on one knee!”

Robin clapped obnoxiously. “Congratulations on your engagement!”

Nancy gasped, pretending to clutch her pearls. “Jonathan! Another woman? How could you!?”

Jonathan groaned and threw his head back.

“See what you’re doing to this family, Jon!?” Eddie suddenly joined in, surprising a laugh out of everyone; even Jonathan, despite his efforts to remain angry-seeming.

Argyle whistled when they calmed down. “Damn, Stevie. Is that the shirt I got you?”

Robin perked up. “Hey! That’s my button up!”

Steve planted his hands on his hips. “And those are my earrings.”

Robin huffed and rolled her eyes, pretending to pout.

The outfit Steve wore was unlike what Eddie normally saw him in. The same blue jeans as always, though these ones seemed to hug his ass and thighs more (a detail Eddie most certainly saved for later). The button up (that was apparently Robin’s) was white pinstriped, hanging open and unbuttoned to show off the light purple, sleeveless turtle neck (that Argyle got him, apparently).

Eddie kinda wanted to bite him.

.

Jonathan and Steve were designated drivers. So everyone split between the two cars; Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle in one and Robin, Steve and Eddie in the other.

The bar they went to was a small one but was still packed on such a fine Saturday night. The group was quick to find a corner booth to seat all six of them.

Argyle payed for the first round of drinks, everyone just getting beer. But they were all quick to get to the vodka and other shit.

“You not gonna drink anything else, Stevie?” Eddie asked at one point when he noticed Steve was still nursing his first beer.

“Designated driver, remember?”

Eddie hummed and took his last shot, barely buzzed despite drinking so much already. “I could drive us back if you wanna just drink with everyone else.”

Steve eyed him and didn’t respond for a moment. Eddie was ready to take the offer back, play it off as a joke. It wasn’t even like he said anything flirty or whatever! Steve just made him nervous like that.

“Are you sure?” Steve finally asked, his voice timid even as he raised it to be heard over the music.

Eddie grinned. “‘Course, darlin. Lemme take care of it.”

Steve turned away and downed the rest of his beer quickly. Eddie turned back to Argyle and Nancy’s conversation and failed to see the deep red flush overtaking Steve’s ears.

.

That was maybe 20 minutes ago.

At this point in time, Steve was definitely passed buzzed and well on his way to drunk.

He was sandwiched between Eddie and Robin, his head leaning on Robin’s shoulder and his hand playing distractingly and absentmindedly with Eddie’s jacket sleeve.

Eddie tried to ignore how sweet Steve looked, his face flushed with the pleasant buzz and his hair kind of getting floppy because he kept playing with it. He looked so cute listening to Jonathan but still so spaced out and almost floaty.

Eddie kind of really maybe wanted to bite him. Maybe make him cry.

Jesus H Christ.

He took a big drink of his water. “I think I’m gonna head out for a smoke, be back in a few.” Eddie carefully removed his sleeve from Steve’s grasp, fighting off the cooing he so desperately wanted to do at the pout the other gave him for it.

Eddie left in no time, letting himself out into an alley next to the bar. His cigarette was short-lived and he went for another 2 after his first.

He refused to let his mind wander, instead focusing on the burn in his throat and the smoke in his lungs. He was sufficiently calmed down after an extra moment, finally going back in after what had to have been just shy of 10 minutes.

Maybe he should’ve stayed outside.

Because Steve was drunk now, to the point that Nancy had cut him off.

It was in that moment, walking back to the booth, that Eddie fully realized he’d never seen Steve drunk.

When Eddie came into sight of the table, Steve immediately jumped up in his seat and reached obnoxiously over the table to wave at him. It was adorably reminiscent of a 5 year old and a little puppy.

Eddie failed to keep the soft grin off his face. Not that he was really trying.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greeted softly when sitting back down next to him.

“Hi, Ed!” Steve exclaimed loudly and excitedly, basically bouncing in place. Eddie really should’ve stayed outside.

“Steve’s a little drunk, don’t hold anything he may say or do against him.” Jonathan joked from across from them. Or, it seemed like a joke. His expression was playful but his tone was more serious than it let on.

“Oh? A little drunk? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited.” Eddie snickered.

“Hey!” Steve smacked at Eddie’s shoulder and immediately grabbed his arm afterwards, wrapping himself around it and holding on. Eddie felt himself grow hot under his shirt collar. “I’m always excited to see you, doofus.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. This was news to him. He shot a look to Jonathan who waved him off, turning to talk with Robin instead.

Eddie put his free hand over one of Steve’s. “Oh yeah, darlin? That’s news to me.”

Eddie watched in delight while a steady blush crept down Steve’s neck. He grinned dopily at Eddie, all teeth and gums and scrunched up nose. It was ridiculously endearing.

“Huuuuuussshhhh.” Steve pointed at him, his arm like a wobbly noodle and uncoordinated; he nearly smacked Eddie in the face. “‘Course ‘m always excited to see you. You’re you!”

Eddie stuck his tongue behind his bottom lip to avoid grinning like an idiot. Steve’s eyes followed.

“Alright, dork. I think it’s time to take you home.”

Steve squawked at being called a dork. Insisting Eddie was the biggest dork he’d ever met.

“You’re a Dork with a capital D!” Steve insisted while they weaved through the crowd. Eddie was taking Steve home early with Robin catching a ride with Jonathan.

Eddie snorted, holding back a comment on ‘capital D’ anything. He had a firm grip on Steve’s wrist, as his drunken friend got distracted at every little thing. After he ran off to talk to some stranger “because they had shiny earrings! I needed to know where they were from, Edd!” Eddie wasn’t taking any chances.

He had to physically buckle Steve up for him in the beemer, leaning over him and clicking it into place. Eddie chose to ignore the raging blush on Steve’s face in favor of a simple smirk.

Steve wouldn’t stop talking the entire ride and Eddie loved it.

“I really wanted to play volleyball as a kid but my dad refused because he thought it was too girly— and than I wanted to play hockey! And I would’ve if my mom wasn’t so adamant about it being too ‘aggressive’ and my dad just going along with it because he couldn’t care less either way— oh!! And then I played soccer for a little bit! Did you know Robin plays soccer? I think she used to be on the track team, too—“

Eddie couldn’t stop grinning. (He made a silent promise to ask Argyle about volleyball so he could play with Steve at some point.)

When he took the turn to Loch Nora Steve went quiet. A brief glance told Eddie he was staring out the window. He let him have another moment before speaking.

“You alright, Stevie?”

Steve’s response was delayed, his voice quieter than it has been all night. “Yeah, ‘m good.”

“You sure? You went awfully quiet over there, darling.” Eddie couldn’t stop the faintly concerned glance he shot to the side.

“Yeah.”

Eddie pulled over to the side of a fancy road, one side houses with huge yards and the other the trees spanning out into the woods. Steve jolted at the stop, glancing at Eddie’s faint reflection in the window.

Eddie twisted in his seat, reaching over to tap on Steve’s thigh to get his attention. When Steve looked over at Eddie he looked like a kicked puppy.

“Why’d ya stop?”

“Cause somethin’s wrong and you’re not explaining.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Sorry.”

Eddie smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologize, Stevie. I just need to know what’s wrong so I’m not sending you home while you’re in a bad place.”

Steve’s shoulders hiked up slightly. “Doesn’ matter.”

Eddie huffed, stopping his tapping on Steve’s thigh in favor of grabbing it gently. “Of course it does, sweetheart. If it’s affectin’ you this much it’s gotta matter a lot.”

Steve shrugged, trying to look away. Eddie let him, but kept his hand on his thigh and squeezed twice. Just to let him know he was there.

They were both silent for a moment. The two. Then—

“Don’t wanna.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Don’t wanna what?”

Steve response was slow, quiet. “Go home. Too quiet.”

Eddie’s breath left him in a quiet rush. Even if Steve was slowly making the Harrington estate more ‘him’, the memories it held would most likely prevent it from ever being ‘home’.

“You wanna go back to the trailer with me?” Eddie found himself asking.

Steve’s nod was hesitant, shaky like he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Eddie decided he was going to keep Steve at the trailer for as long as he can get away with this weekend.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s get goin then, yeah?” He patted Steve’s thigh twice and turned back to resume driving.

Steve remained quiet the rest of the drive, but he hummed along to the radio so Eddie deemed him a little better.

He parked on the side of the road, leaving the space next to the van open for Wayne’s truck when he got home in the morning.

Eddie had to help Steve up the porch stairs, letting him lean on his shoulder while fumbling with his keys. Steve was still humming to the last song that played on the radio.

Eddie gave Steve a pair of sweatpants and a shirt and silently praised himself for the flush settling down Steve’s neck. But then there was a flush settling down Eddie’s neck because Steve looked really good in his clothes.

They shared the bed like they usually did when they spent the night at each others places. Eddie took the spot by the wall and Steve climbed in to face the door. Eddie wrapped himself around Steve’s back with a hand on his waist and another under his head.

.

Did this take over a month? Nope. (Ssshhhhhhh)

I’m my defense: my biggest hyper fixation atm is ATLA 🤷

Am I happy with this? No, not really.

Am I posting it anyway? Sure am🧍.

Have fun with it ✌️

[hotwritergf]

My dearest Mimi, I have a request! <3

Steddie, fluff or smut. I'm a big fan of tickling, biting, overpowering, d/s dynamics, and daddy kink--so please feel free to pick and choose anything you want to write, whenever you want to write it (:

Flustered!Eddie / Steddie / One shot / smut-fluff<3

CW- tickling, d/s dynamic, teasing, biting, hickeys, sub!eddie, dom!steve, fluff, smut, mention of handcuffs, use of the term Daddy!

AN- Hi m'darlin! Thank you for your request, and for being my first ever request on this blog!<3 I hope this lives up to your expectations, biting isn’t something I’ve really experienced with or written before so it’s new for me! I love a challenge. I hope you have a wonderful day Ollie ♡

“I’ll make you regret that you know?” Eddie stares over in Steve’s direction who is currently running his fingers over Eddie’s vinyl records. Wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and a smile he laughs “Sorry I forgot these things are more important to you than your future first-born child.”  

“They’re timeless Harrington, just watch because in the future these will be worth so much money, then I can feed our first-born child if money gets tight.” Eddie blushes, looking down at his feet. 

“Ours huh?” Steve coos, caressing his boyfriend’s cheek. He notices how flushed his face is, rolling his eyes at how easily embarrassed he can get. 

“My sweet boy, all red and blushing for me.” He whispers into Eddie’s ear and finishes his sentence with a playful nip at his earlobe. Eddie splutters out giggles, stuttering as he squeals “that tickles stop!” 

“Is that so? So beautifully sensitive.” He replies, letting up on the ticklish assault. “Look at those goosebumps.” Steve softly drags his fingers down Eddie’s biceps and wrists. “Your body is fighting with your mind huh baby? Your head says no but I can feel your cock pushing into my thigh.” 

He reaches down, palming against his boyfriend’s erection, occasionally bringing his finger tips up to tease Eddie’s underwear clad tip. Steve nestled his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses and biting a few heart shaped bruises onto his skin. He tasted like cologne and need. Steve’s spare hand now gripping at the roots of Eddie’s curls, taking a handful of hair and tugging against it. Eddie lets out a guttural moan, shivering under the touch. 

“You want me to touch you baby?” Steve teases once more, letting his teeth sink into the skin surrounding his boyfriend’s collarbones. Leaving more marks for the world to see, he loved marking him as his. His property. 

“Please daddy.” Eddie whimpered, practically begging for any form of release. His cock fully hard and straining in his underwear that felt far too tight to be comfortable. The ache in his balls ever-growing, he needed to feel Steve’s touch. 

“There’s a good boy.” Steve growled, his canines piercing his neck again for good measure. He shuffles a few things around in the cabinet next to him, pulling out their favorite pair of handcuffs. Holding them up confidently in Eddie’s eyeline, he can hear him gulp as he realizes the teasing has only just begun. 

[fic-recommended]

Steddie Fics

more to be added, if I feel like adding

—————————————

Across, Diagonal and Upside Down – rajumat

(2,889 words, 1 chapter, Teen)

Tags: Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bingo, no beta we die like men

After Billy beats the shit out of Steve, Dustin makes the entire party Upside Down Bingo Cards, because awful things suck less when you have something fun to think about. Or: Steve wins at bingo.

Cute intro to Steddie and just fun trauma bonding times.

Camp Folktale, Summer of ’86 – cairparaels

(113,859 words, 47 chapters, Not Rated)

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Hurt Eddie Munson, Eddie is nice to everyone but Steve and no one knows why, Miscommunication, Swimming, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Trying His Best, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Campfires, Cryptids, Ghost Stories, Power Outages, Secret Admirer, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Found Family, Eddie and Steve are reluctant dads, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Jealousy, eddie munson is a virgin, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Eddie Munson Gets Flustered Very Easily, So does Steve but he would never admit it, Not Beta Read, Tolkien References, Kissing, Making Out, Makeup, Flea Markets, Skinny Dipping, underwater kissing, Saving the camp, Eventual Smut, Smut, Overuse of italics

When Steve applies for a summer camp per Dustin's request, he doesn’t expect to have the most interesting summer of his life. Featuring a sulky metalhead who hates Steve for no reason, eight kids set on driving Steve to an early grave, Robin Buckley’s ability to charm any girl she wants, and Steve’s bisexual disaster/dream/nightmare. But hey, that’s what summer camp is all about. Right?

This fic made me obsess over making summer camps in the sims with queer romances. This fic is good. Simple word but an incredible feat.

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting. – badpancake

(41,496 words, 12 chapters, Teen)

Tags: Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington-centric, Hurt Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, im so sorry, steve deserves a little sexuality crisis, as a treat, Eventual Happy Ending, steve is sick of this shit, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, it takes a time loop for these fuckers to get together, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Suicide Attempt, Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Groundhog Day (1993) Fusion, Dyslexic Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has ADHD, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Slow Burn, Kinda, BAMF Steve Harrington, Suicidal Thoughts, Steve Harrington Whump, can be read standalone!!, Touch-Starved Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Protective Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, in the end.... eventually, Families of Choice, Vecna Possessing Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Powers, kinda??, i guess we can call it that

It’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. He’s dove into the water hundreds of times. Screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard Master of Puppets in the distance and held back tears. Felt Max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. There are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: El doesn’t arrive in time. Eddie dies. Max is put in a coma. Steve fails. They lose. “Steve, how many loops have you been through?” His head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and Eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. “I lost count.” AKA: The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

I cried alot reading this fic. Yet it is the only Steddie fic I can really think of that gave me such a lasting impression that I find myself quoting it even to people who have no idea where it’s from. 

You’re Divine – Oonionchiver

(259,565 words, 8 chapters , Explicit)

Tags: Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Codependency, Human/Monster Romance, Steve Harrington's Medium Tendency to Self Destruct, Blood Kink, BDSM, Choking, Painplay, The Worst/Best Bath Ever, Blood Drinking, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Ideation, Rough Sex, Daddy Kink, this might fuck you up, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human/Vampire Relationship, Monsterfucking On Main Oh My, DO NOT ADD TO GOODREADS, Robin and Steve are Soul Mates, Affectionate Obsession, Subdrop, Sharing Blood Before They Ever Kiss, Dom/sub, Happy Ending Literally Always Guaranteed In This House, Fuck Me Up But Make It Devastatingly Disgustingly Romantic, Switching, But y'know we cant be normal about it, Size Kink, This Might Awaken Things In You, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Possession, now with art!, Suicide Attempt

‘Blood?’ Eddie says again. Eyes black but for the slice of iridescent white in the centre. His teeth are sharp, his hands are weapons and Steve thinks maybe he’s made a mistake doing this without telling Eddie first. Eddie’s focus lowers, it moves to his left hand which is… Oh fuck. It’s dripping blood onto the floor. ‘Shit,’ Steve says, takes a single step back, swallows. ‘Eddie, I’m so sorry, fuck.’ Eddie can’t seem to look away, can’t bring his ethereal gaze back up where it belongs. Steve thinks he should run, he should flee. A tiny part of him knows Eddie will chase him. Eddie will catch him, outrun him easily. It's more than a little fucked up how that thrills him.

I think where I went wrong is not seeing the teeny tiny pesky little tag that says this might awaken something in you I know if I were to have see it I wouldn’t be who I am today. Because holy fucking hell does this fic make something inside you hatch. Like what the fuck. Incredible writing I love a monster fucker.

Suspended Bridges - foresthearts

(243,553 words, 35 chapters, Mature)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Stancy is not endgame, Steve thinks he’s afraid of Eddie when he really just has a big fat crush, Oblivious Steve Harrington, mentions of Mpreg because omegaverse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Steve meets Eddie before s4, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Period-Typical Homophobia, Steve is an omega pretending to be an alpha, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Tall Eddie, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Eddie Munson, EMT Steve Harrington, Mileven will break up in this i am sorry, Mutual Pining, Family Dynamics, Redemption Arcs, Found Family, Misunderstandings, But hopefully not in an obnoxious way, Protective Eddie Munson

“Steve really needed to get his stupid thing he had with Munson under control. He struggled to find a word for it. It was like an anti-crush or something. The same awareness and panic that a crush brought, but not because he had feelings for the guy. Because of the opposite. Because any time he saw Munson, his heart kicked up in fear, his breathing got shallow, his whole body started to warm. Munson made him want to turn heel and run.” In which Steve has the opposite of the suspended bridge effect. (Featuring omega!Steve pretending to be an alpha and alpha!Eddie silently losing his mind.)

I think I can sum this fic up better in a scene. So you see me standing in the middle of my kitchen, hand over my mouth, eyes wide, as I read the big reveal and a certain metal heads reaction. My partner is astounded. I am shaking and blushing. Nothing is more magnificent or earth shatteringly embarrassing for all parties, real or otherwise, involved. Magnificent fic if I do say so myself.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hi!!! can i get a romantic match up for stranger things and supernatural?

i’m 21, female (she/her), bisexual. i’m 5’0 with curly brown hair and green eyes; i wear glasses with a thin round golden frame. i love reading, writing and drawing, and I'm majoring in early education.

i’m shy and introverted, get anxious quite easily, my favourite things to do are going on car rides with friends and movie nights together. Some of my favourite bands are Spandau Ballet and Duran Duran, but I'm mostly into 70s/80s music :). Love your work!!!<3

Hello! And thank you! <3

I really hope you like your matchups!

I'm sorry for the wait!

<333333

This was pretty fun!

Hehe <3

Romantic Matchups; Stranger Things and Supernatural

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Stranger Things;

Steve Harrington -

You met Steve during your freshman year at college.

At first, he was the charming, outgoing - kind of awkward - guy everyone knew in your social circles, while you were a quiet, introverted student who kept mostly to herself.

You were both in a creative writing class together, and you always caught his eye whenever you'd hand in assignments or give short presentations.

One day, you accidentally bumped into him in the library, knocking over a stack of books.

You were flustered and apologized profusely, but Steve just laughed it off, offering to help you pick them up.

From that point on, you started talking, and Steve found himself intrigued by your thoughtful and creative nature.

Your friendship with Steve grew slowly but surely, starting with small conversations between classes and sharing opinions on the novels you were studying.

Steve admired how shy and soft-spoken you were but noticed that you were surprisingly quick-witted and funny once you were comfortable.

He started to appreciate your deep love for books, writing, and art, and you found his quirky and genuine nature endearing.

You both started hanging out more, whether it was grabbing coffee at the campus café or going on long drives, just listening to your favorite 70s/80s tunes.

Steve was always the one to suggest spontaneous little adventures, like going to a record store or a nearby diner, just to enjoy each other’s company.

You’d also find yourself drawn into deep, philosophical conversations with him, which always made you feel like you could talk to him about anything.

Steve would tell you all about the kids he used to babysit.

Seeing how his face would light up from the stories...

You found it endearing.

As the months passed, you both began to feel something more than friendship but were hesitant to express it.

Steve would find little ways to show that he cared about you, like picking up your favorite snacks when he noticed you were stressed about schoolwork or sitting with you during your breaks, just to keep you company.

For you, it was the way he paid attention to the details - how he always made sure you were comfortable and would listen intently to your ideas or dreams for the future.

The shift in your feelings was subtle - the way his touch lingered just a moment longer when he handed you something or the way he would always smile that little bit brighter when he saw you.

You'd catch yourself flushing more often and finding excuses to be near him.

In the very beginning when he was thinking about his feelings, he was very nervous.

Would you even like him the way he liked you?

It wasn’t until one late night when you were both sitting on the hood of Steve’s car, looking at the stars, that the confession finally came.

He was unusually quiet, staring off into the night before he turned to you with a soft smile.

"You know, I never thought I’d find someone who loves the same things I do... Who doesn’t mind being a little weird and, well, quiet sometimes."

You smiled back, heart fluttering in your chest.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, Steve glanced at you, his eyes soft.

“I think I’ve been falling for you, and I don’t know if you feel the same."

Your heart swelled, and without missing a beat, you told him that you’d felt the same for a while now.

That night, you shared your first kiss, soft and tentative, but so full of promise and affection.

As a couple, things between you and Steve were comfortable and easy.

He was always a little more extroverted, but with you, he felt more grounded.

You found comfort in each other’s presence.

Whether it was long walks after class, lazy nights in watching movies, or working on projects together, you both became inseparable.

Steve would always encourage you to share your art, whether it was your writing or drawings, and he’d never hesitate to tell you how amazing you were.

Steve would do little romantic things that made you feel incredibly special.

He’d leave you notes in your textbooks, random love letters, or little doodles that reminded you of inside jokes.

On cold days, he’d offer you his jacket, making sure you were warm, even if it meant he’d freeze.

He loved taking you to small, quaint places you’d never think of going, like a hidden little park or a rooftop to watch the sunset together, always with your favorite songs playing in the background.

When the weekends came, you’d both enjoy slow mornings together.

Steve loved making you breakfast, even if it was just pancakes with a little too much syrup.

He’d make you coffee and surprise you with your favorite pastries.

After breakfast, you’d curl up on the couch together, sharing your latest projects and dreams for the future.

Even when you were studying or working, he’d just sit beside you, content to be in the same space.

At some point, you would hear the story about the UpsideDown and Hawkins.

It was hard to believe at first, but you knew Steve would never lie to you.

And he had the scars to prove it.

Steve would go out of his way to make sure you felt loved and supported, whether that meant helping you with your coursework for your early education class, setting up a cozy movie night when you needed a break from studying, or just being a shoulder to lean on when anxiety hit.

If you ever felt overwhelmed, Steve would give you space, but always gently remind you that he was there whenever you needed him.

His constant support made you feel safe and loved.

You’d always encourage Steve to pursue his passions and take the time he needed to focus on what made him happy.

You’d be there when he needed to vent about life or just take a breather from everything.

You’d spend time making him small gifts, drawing, or writing him little things that expressed how much he meant to you.

And of course, you’d always let him know how much you loved him, whether it was with a touch or a warm smile.

~~~

Supernatural;

Dean Winchester -

You first met Dean through Sam.

You were a fellow hunter, introduced to the brothers when Sam needed help with a particularly tricky case involving a vengeful spirit.

You’d been working alone on the case when Sam reached out to you, knowing you had the skills to assist.

Dean was immediately wary of you, always protective of Sam, but after watching you work and handle the situation with ease, he came to respect your talents.

It wasn’t long before you were joining them on hunts together, each of you contributing something unique to their team.

Over time, your bond with Dean grew, grounded in the shared experiences of hunting and saving people.

He respected your independence and your quiet, no-nonsense approach to hunting.

Dean would often tease you about your calm, collected attitude, but you’d always fire back with witty remarks.

You became a solid member of the team, and your friendship with Dean grew into something more comfortable as you spent more time together.

You’d share the occasional laugh or joke in between hunts, and the way Dean would always try to make you laugh during tough situations became a trademark of your dynamic.

The banter between you two felt effortless and natural.

The romantic feelings between you and Dean were subtle at first.

He had a way of looking at you that was different from the way he looked at Sam - obviously - or other hunters.

You would catch him staring at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, his gaze lingering just a bit longer.

For you, it was the little things - how he’d protect you in the field, how he’d always make sure you were safe before he took the dangerous shots.

It was his quiet, gentle moments that made you start to realize just how much you cared for him.

One night, after a particularly dangerous hunt, you were both exhausted and nursing your wounds back at the motel.

Dean, after a long stretch of silence, finally said, “You know, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing at your lips. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“You make it all seem... Easier. Like, all this crap we deal with? I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel as bad with you around.” He paused, and when you looked at him, he took a breath and added, “I think I’ve got feelings for you. Could be more, could just be the adrenaline talking... But I don’t think it is.”

It was a rare moment of vulnerability for Dean, and you immediately smiled, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

It felt like everything had come full circle.

The relationship between you and Dean was straightforward but full of heart.

He was always fiercely protective of you, which you found endearing and comforting.

You'd protect him too.

You supported him during his darkest moments, offering a calm presence and a listening ear whenever he needed it.

Dean’s love for you was fierce, and you found yourself falling more for his rough exterior and kind heart as time passed.

Dean would show his love through small gestures: making you coffee during the early morning hours, putting a blanket around you when you were too tired after a hunt, and always making sure you had everything you needed.

On rare, quiet nights, he’d play your favorite 70s/80s songs on the Impala’s radio, sharing stories about the music while you both relaxed after a long hunt.

When the hunting life calmed down, you two would spend evenings cooking together, either making a hearty meal or just grabbing snacks.

Dean loved that domestic side of things, as much as he would never admit it.

You’d also spend time fixing up the Impala or planning your next hunt over dinner.

It wasn’t perfect, but those small moments of peace felt like everything to him.

Dean would always make sure you were well taken care of, even if it meant putting himself in harm's way.

He would also protect you emotionally, keeping the darker parts of the hunting life away from you when needed.

You’d always make sure he knew he wasn’t alone, especially when the weight of his family history and his life as a hunter would get too heavy.

You’d reassure him, offering comfort and love in ways he never expected.

You’d make him feel seen and appreciated in a world where it often seemed like he was forgotten.

Your kindness and patience would be the anchor he desperately needed in his chaotic world.

[the-kr8tor]

Lil facts about me!

I love horror movies, I have a sweet tooth, and I get flustered real easily.

Series OC face claims and comic OC art

Spidersona/oc

Current wips:

💌 Requests

💌 one year anniversary reqs

💌 Minotaur AU

💌 co-worker au

💌 zombie au

💌 teacher au

💌 ipob pt 3

Editing:

✏️ reqs

Music I'm currently listening to on repeat: Chappell Roan, Sabrina Carpenter. recommend some songs? Mayhaps? 🥺

These are the characters I'm obsessed (in love) with! I might write for them in the future. Or if you just want to chat about them with me 🥺

Current obsession - Hobie Brown my Beloved and Ekko my pookie

Faves: Morpheus/Dream of the endless and the Corinthian (The Sandman), Ekko (arcane), Task force 141 men, especially Gaz my husband 🥺 including, Alejandro, Rudy, Konig, Keegan, and Hesh, Kruger (call of duty), Miguel o'hara (atsv)

Leon Kennedy, Carlos Oliveira (resident evil), Every Genshin impact character- especially, Xiao, Albedo, and Diluc.

Q (Daniel craig's bond), Santino D'Antonio and John Wick (John Wick), Gojo,Getou and Nanami (jjk)

Joel Miller (tlou) Rhaenyra, Aemond Targaryen (hotd), Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington (stranger things), Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid (criminal minds), Gregory House (house md), Jason Todd (batman), James Conrad (kong skull Island), Arthur Morgan (rdr2), Louis (iwtv) Levi (aot) Peter Parker (tasm), tangerine (bullet train)

And so much more I can't remember from the top of my head lol

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Camp Folktale, Summer of ‘86

by cairparavels

Rating: Not Rated Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Suzie Bingham/Dustin Henderson Character: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Fred Benson, Chrissy Cunningham, Heather Holloway, Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), The Party (Stranger Things), Patrick (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington's Parents, Suzie Bingham, Erica Sinclair, Billy Hargrove Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Hurt Eddie Munson, Eddie is nice to everyone but Steve and no one knows why, Miscommunication, Swimming, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Trying His Best, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Campfires, Cryptids, Ghost Stories, Power Outages, Secret Admirer, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Found Family, Eddie and Steve are reluctant dads, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Jealousy, eddie munson is a virgin, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Eddie Munson Gets Flustered Very Easily, So does Steve but he would never admit it, Not Beta Read, Tolkien References, Kissing, Making Out, Makeup, Flea Markets, Skinny Dipping, underwater kissing, Saving the camp, Eventual Smut, Smut, Overuse of italics Words: 113,859 Chapters: 47/47

Summary

When Steve applies for a summer camp per Dustin's request, he doesn’t expect to have the most interesting summer of his life. Featuring a sulky metalhead who hates Steve for no reason, eight kids set on driving Steve to an early grave, Robin Buckley’s ability to charm any girl she wants, and Steve’s bisexual disaster/dream/nightmare. But hey, that’s what summer camp is all about. Right?

[strangereads]

ohhh, so much to say. as usual-

my reaction to this chapter as a whole vs my face when steve was getting the bike out of the back of his car.

as always, your writing has blown me away. right off the bat, that second paragraph was gorgeous and poetic and so beautifully articulated. i felt it. the sleepy bliss before you're really aware of your surroundings and then the moment everything finally clicks. i felt it!! you're truly such a lovely writer.

and god the drama going on right now is so juicy. mourning will while being confused about the weird goings-ons, all while grappling with being in love with johnathan and being easily flustered by the stupidly handsome steve harrington?? i am on the edge of my seat!

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.  “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.  His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.  “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

-

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet. 

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm. 

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked. 

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10. 

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met. 

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever. 

Then it all comes rushing back to you. 

Will’s body in the quarry. 

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend. 

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal. 

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated. 

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before. 

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second. 

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you. 

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening. 

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating. 

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown. 

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations. 

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help. 

You both just know. 

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks. 

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger. 

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine. 

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel. 

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will. 

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do. 

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around. 

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt. 

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important. 

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast. 

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse. 

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence. 

He’s gone. 

– 

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality. 

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know. 

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later. 

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner? 

“So who did the autopsy?” 

“Someone from State.” 

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd. 

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response. 

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce. 

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways. 

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough. 

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything. 

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods. 

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh. 

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.” 

“Anytime, bee.” 

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak. 

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day. 

You’re in love with Jonathan. 

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about. 

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time. 

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings. 

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside. 

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her. 

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well. 

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat. 

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do. 

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can. 

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man. 

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce. 

– 

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car. 

You sigh. 

This day definitely sucks. 

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well? 

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-” 

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom. 

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice. 

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes. 

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place. 

“Mom, stop!” 

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that. 

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache. 

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them. 

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!” 

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you. 

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though. 

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” 

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves. 

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive. 

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes. 

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive. 

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive. 

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn. 

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.” 

“But-” 

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan. 

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan. 

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him. 

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?” 

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.” 

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.” 

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone. 

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.” 

“I said a lot yesterday-” 

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent. 

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.” 

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments. 

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him. 

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?” 

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless. 

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?” 

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.” 

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start. 

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile. 

You’ll take whatever you can get.

– 

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does. 

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place. 

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious. 

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her. 

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.” 

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place. 

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.” 

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.” 

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.” 

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend. 

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El. 

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong. 

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says. 

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway. 

“Maybe she did run away-” 

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons. 

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom. 

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit. 

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.” 

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-” 

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore. 

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.” 

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.” 

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.” 

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?” 

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think. 

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not. 

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers. 

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot. 

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure. 

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

– 

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start. 

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy. 

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth. 

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him. 

It’s a nauseating feeling. 

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place. 

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is. 

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.” 

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?” 

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?” 

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.” 

“And then-” 

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you. 

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.” 

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking. 

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.” 

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is. 

Your smile vanishes. 

He wants to impress her. 

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama. 

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.” 

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about. 

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.” 

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?” 

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away. 

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him. 

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now. 

– 

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. 

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. 

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. 

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?” 

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him. 

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.” 

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…” 

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. 

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window. 

“Hello again, Henderson.” 

“I never said hello back to you.” 

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.” 

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.” 

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly. 

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless. 

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.” 

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince. 

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty. 

Fuck Steve Harrington. 

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.” 

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?” 

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused. 

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.” 

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by. 

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.  

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers… 

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. 

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh. 

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.” 

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety. 

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate. 

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down. 

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans. 

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.” 

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.” 

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.” 

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

-

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